


Stay Warm

by eastwood



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 08:40:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13244598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eastwood/pseuds/eastwood
Summary: Left with inadequate supplies after a mission gone to hell, Gabe makes do.





	Stay Warm

It’s shit luck when they reach the safe house in the middle of a blizzard to find that, first off, the electricity is down and the back-up generator is too iced over to get at. Of course, no surprise there. Secondly, either somebody failed to inform HQ that the firewood for the wood stove needed to be restocked, or it’d been plain stolen by the locals. There’s going to be no heat inside whatsoever. 

Gabe feels like someone, somewhere, is laughing at him just about now.

He gets Jesse inside and sat down anyway, at least to keep him out of the wind. The kid is stumbling almost blind, half-frozen from the two hour trek in the storm it took them just to make it here in the first place. Gabe would thank God and the US military for the SEP keeping his own body running hot even now, but on the other hand fuck the both of them for not giving him any firewood to make sure Jesse wouldn’t freeze to death overnight.

The safe house is insulated against cold but after how long the place has been left empty and unheated it’s barely above zero on the inside, and almost pitch black. It’s not a certain death sentence, though. When he uses his flashlight to take stock of what’s actually left inside the house—more of a one room shack really—he finds a few ice cold MREs stacked together along with some calorie bars that might be easier to thaw. There’s bedrolls too, and few sleeping bags that aren’t completely worthless. 

It might be enough. They had to leave behind everything they’d been carrying once the job went bad, so now it’s all they've got anyway. It’d have to be enough.

He starts by arranging the bedrolls on the floor, then methodically unzips each of the sleeping bags and layers them all in a pile on top. Next he hauls Jesse back to his feet, tamping down resignation when he sees how hard it seems for Jesse to focus on him.

“Take off your gear and lie down,” he orders, but then has to do most of the work stripping Jesse out of his winter tac kit and everything else as Jesse can’t get his fingers to close on any of the buckles or fasteners.

Once Jesse is shivering in just his shorts, the only things that stayed dry, Gabe maneuvers him under all the sleeping bags before he quickly strips off all his own gear. He grabs a few of the foil wrapped calorie bars before getting into the makeshift bed with Jesse, who he pulls up against himself, back to chest. The calorie bars go between them, hopefully warming fast enough in their body heat that Jesse will be able to eat something.

“Give me your hands,” he tells Jesse, who does have enough presence of mind left to obey, and Gabe gets both arms around him to grab his stiffly curled fingers and start rubbing some life back into them. If there’s anything he can do more than merely keeping Jesse from kicking the bucket tonight, he’d prefer not losing pieces of him to frostbite either.

Jesse is in real danger of falling asleep before Gabe can get any energy into him, though. “Talk to me, cowboy,” he says. “You numb anywhere? Fingers? Toes?”

“Gon’ rub my feet too, boss?” Jesse slurs, sounding like his tongue is frozen as well. It’s the first thing he’s said in nearly an hour, so for all Gabe knows maybe it was. He hadn’t realized how much the silence has been grating on him until it’s broken.

“I don’t think so. Couldn’t care less if you lose those, honestly.” From what he can tell it seems like Jesse’s hands are ok, though they’ll have to wait and see the next day. Gabe switches to roughly chafing Jesse’s arms with his palms, trying to get blood back to the surface.

He says, “Keep talking. Know where we are?”

“Safe house,” Jesse mumbles.

“That’s right. What country?”

Jesse groans. “One of th’shitty ones.”

“Yeah, I know you weren’t built for the snow, cowboy. Neither am I.” Except thanks to SEP he can do a lot better than most. He switches to rubbing Jesse’s chest, down to his stomach, where the skin is starting to warm up. “Which country? You remember, right?”

“Russia,” Jesse mumbles. “Fuckin’ bullshit cocksuckin’ Russia.”

“Yeah, good. You’re doing good, McCree.” Gabe switches again, lower to Jesse’s flank, the hair on his thighs rough against his palms. “How you feeling?”

“Like a goddamn Snocone,” Jesse replies, slowly. “And naked. Are we naked?”

“Just about,” Gabe confirms. He gets his own legs around one of Jesse’s, tangling them together to make as much skin contact as possible.

Once Gabe has stopped moving and settled down to let his body heat fill the small space underneath the covers, Jesse says, “Boss,” too quiet, and Gabe suddenly knows what he’s about to do. 

It’s that stupid crush Jesse’s been growing for months, a year maybe, unspoken but obvious in lingering looks and bitten back words. Of course he wants to confess now that he’s a minute into coming back from the brink of death and they’re curled up alone together in a dark room, like that means something. Like Gabe doesn’t already know. Fucking kid.

“Don’t worry about it, McCree,” Gabe says, voice low. “Just make it through the night.” He opens a pair of the calorie bars, shoving one in front of Jesse’s face. It’s still hard as a rock but better than nothing to make him shut up. No doubt in the morning Jesse will have his senses back and they’ll be able to move out without another word on the subject. “Chew on this, try to finish the whole thing.”

Jesse takes it after a second, and Gabe starts gnawing on his own bar, his jaw beginning to ache by the time he realizes Jesse has fallen asleep with the half-finished calorie bar clutched to his chest. That’s alright, his constant shivering has stopped and he’s warming up for good now, plus he’s even gotten a little bit of food in him. Should be enough.

Gabe shoves his empty wrapper out of the way so he can put an arm around Jesse and pull him close, aligning their bodies from head to toe as best he can to make the most of his enhanced metabolism for the both of them. He makes sure the sleeping bags are tucked securely around them up to their eyes, then nudges the calorie bar out of Jesse’s hands and covers them with one of his own, curled up loosely against Jesse’s sternum.

Jesse’s breathing is deep and even, back pushing steadily to Gabe’s chest then out again, unmoving except for the muscles in his legs and arms giving an occasional twitch, no doubt feeling pins and needles from the blood returning to his extremities.

Gabe puts his forehead against the back of Jesse’s head, damp with melted snow, and tells himself to sleep because there’s nothing more to do.

He wakes up twice. First when Jesse starts shivering again, while the room is still completely dark and the wind still rages outside. Gabe pulls and shoves at Jesse under the sleeping bags until he rolls over. He scoots right into Gabe’s arms, grabbing around Gabe’s ribs and shoving a knee between his legs before he tucks his face into the warm spot of Gabe’s neck, stubble scraping over skin. He seems to do this all while sleeping, as he doesn’t say a word before Gabe has fallen back asleep.

The second time Gabe wakes up he finds that it’s just barely starting to get light. He looks around at the room, vague in the near darkness, and realizes it’s quiet outside—the storm has passed. They’ll be able to make it to the original drop point today, assuming the snow’s not too deep. Hallelujah, praise God, and fuck Russia in the winter.

He exhales a sigh of relief, nudging a bit closer to Jesse who’s a warm and heavy weight in his arms. Jesse goes stiff, not even breathing. Gabe pauses to take stock of the situation: wrapped around each other with all limbs involved, skin to skin, same as he remembers, except Jesse’s got his legs clamped around Gabe’s thigh like he’s going to fall off somehow.

Gabe shifts a little more and Jesse makes a strangled sound, where his mouth is pressed against Gabe’s throat, then jerks away, leaving them face to face. 

Gabe watches him, amused. Even in the dim pre-dawn he can see that Jesse is flushed and affected by their extremely close quarters. The side of Gabe’s mouth quirks up on its own accord.

Jesse seems afraid to move any further. “Boss, I…” he mutters, then stops, then starts again, “That’s, um—shit. Fuck, sorry. Can you, uh.”

In lieu of interpreting whatever “uh,” was supposed to mean, Gabe moves a hand down to take Jesse by the hip and slide his leg out from where Jesse is keeping it trapped. Apparently he could have been a little more polite about it though, because Jesse inhales sharply and bucks into him instead, riding up his thigh and making it dead obvious how affected he really is.

“Oh fuh- fuck,” Jesse is stuttering, eyes squeezed shut. “Jesus, shit, sorry.”

Well. This is not the kind of thing that Jesse would be able to forget about, unlike almost-confessions of love while half dead and mostly asleep. Gabe has to take pity on him; there’s nothing else for it. And, admittedly, he might be feeling a little sentimental himself after last night.

He leans a bit back and tugs Jesse with him, so that Jesse can’t help but grind on him again. 

Jesse groans, head falling forward as he clutches helplessly at Gabe’s shoulders, his dick hard and hot the whole length where it rubs against Gabe’s thigh.

“Jesus,” he gasps, trying and failing to control his twitching hips. “What- don’t you-”

“Doesn’t bother me,” Gabe says mildly. “Want to stop?”

Jesse shudders along his whole body and pushes forward, rolling Gabe onto his back and straddling his bent leg with intent. He plants his elbows on the bedrolls to either side of Gabe’s chest, and Gabe lets his hands slide to Jesse’s waist, allowing him to do as he pleases. 

“Fuck no,” Jesse pants, already rutting in slow, restrained strokes, his head bent low enough that his hair brushes Gabe’s shoulder. “You kiddin’? Don’t tell me I died in that fuckin’ blizzard and went t’heaven.”

Gabe snorts. “I don’t think heaven is where you’ll be ending up.” He can get into this too, Jesse crowding on top of him, muscles working and flexing to fuck against his upper thigh, sliding close to his cock. Gabe drops his hands down to Jesse’s ass, squeezing and dragging him closer so they line up properly. Jesse curses again, under his breath, hips snapping forward.

“God,” Jesse mutters. “I want you so bad. Wanna touch you.”

“Do it,” Gabe tells him, and Jesse does, putting his weight on one arm so he can lean to the side and fit a hand down Gabe’s belly to palm over his cock, where it’s laying thick and filling in the front of his shorts. 

“Jesus,” Jesse murmurs again, subdued. “Can I…?”

“Yeah,” Gabe says, though he doesn’t really care what Jesse’s asking for as his shorts are being pushed down and his dick is pulled out. Jesse’s hand circles around him, jacking him off experimentally, feeling the size and shape of him. After a few adjustments the ridge of callous on Jesse’s trigger finger rubs just the right way under the head of Gabe’s cock and it throbs, twitching; he swallows a noise in the back of his throat at the same time that Jesse makes a sound of interest.

Then Jesse is shoving his own shorts down, wiggling free, and taking them both in hand together. He settles more heavily onto Gabe so he can thrust at the same time he tugs on them in a firm, steady grip. His mouth finds a spot to rest open against Gabe’s neck, hot breath tickling over Gabe’s skin as he gets into a rhythm, hips rocking, body tensed with single minded purpose. 

Gabe alternately squeezes and smooths over Jesse’s ass, guiding him to move a little faster, a little deeper, so that Jesse is fucking against him the way he wants, just on the edge of too rough until Jesse pauses just long enough to bring up his hand and spit into it twice before getting back to business. 

Jesse starts nuzzling against his ear then, mumbling a train of dirty thoughts: “God, Gabe, you’re so fuckin’ hot, wanna fuck you like this all day, wanna suck you off, gonna get my mouth on you next’n make you come, wanna hear how good you sound—” he breaks off, breath stuttering, when Gabe takes hold of his hips and keeps him still for a second to thrust up against him.

“Yeah?” Gabe says back, finally unable to stay quiet while listening to all that. “Keep on talking and I’m going to put you on your belly and fuck you ‘til you scream.”

“Fuck, yes,” Jesse moans, burying his face into Gabe’s shoulder, curving over him to thrust harder, twisting his hand around their dicks faster. 

“You’re going to be so good for me, Jesse, aren’t you,” Gabe purrs low, pawing at Jesse’s ass and meeting his thrusts from below. “I’ll get this ass of yours nice and wet for me so you can take it—”

He doesn’t get any further than that before Jesse is coming, groaning, “yes yes yes,” right into Gabe’s ear and spilling messily over his cock and stomach. 

He sinks down, spent, as Gabe shoves his hand out of the way to take over, finishing himself off fast in just a few more filthy wet strokes with his fingers slipping on Jesse’s come.

For a minute afterwards neither of them move, catching their breaths while their sweat begins to cool and stick. Jesse is slumped over Gabe’s side, an arm folded across his chest and face pressed firmly into the crook of his neck. Gabe gazes at the ceiling, visible now in the gray light. 

“Guess I don’t need to ask if you're up for moving out today,” he says eventually. 

Jesse huffs, then lifts his head to see Gabe. “Y’worried about me, boss?” he asks, grinning faintly, and Gabe tries to make out the look in his eye.

“Yes,” he says simply. “Still have all your toes?”

“If you see one layin’ around, pick it up for me,” Jesse says. 

They look at each other some more, seconds dragging out. 

“MCree,” he says, but Jesse is already shaking his head, moving away to roll onto his back and rubbing a hand over his face.

“Yeah. Thanks for not chucking me out the door, though I guess after all the trouble you went through to keep me from freezin’ to death that would’ve been a lil’ counterproductive.”

“You’re right about that,” Gabe says dryly. He sits up, reaching for his clothes and frowning when he feels the fabric crunch with frost. At least the rendezvous isn’t too far away. 

After a minute Jesse seems recovered enough to start collecting his own clothes. They dress quickly, tidy up the bedrolls and sleeping bags to their original positions, and leave the safehouse locked and secure to wait for its next occupants. 

Jesse stays quiet during the long hike as they trudge through the freshly snow-covered forest, sun now bright in the sky where it’s rising and making everything on earth sparkle bright and clean. 

Gabe occupies himself with making a list in his head of all the people he’s going to fucking throttle for allowing the safe house to remain on the list of available bolt holes. It was practically a death trap without a ready stock of fuel. 

That’s enough to keep him hot-blooded and moving, but he frequently checks back to make sure that Jesse isn’t about to succumb to the cold for a second time, despite the forest being much easier to traverse in daylight and good weather. Every time he looks over his shoulder he only sees Jesse putting one step in front of the other, face drawn up with grim resolve.

Once or twice he considers saying something about that morning, how he knows it meant something with the way Jesse’s feeling, and how it wasn’t exactly charity on his part. Christ, and the shit they said... 

He keeps his mouth shut. With the way things are he can’t make any promises about whether it’d happen again, or not. Jesse’s not an idiot, he can figure out that much on his own.

They arrive at the drop point and are kept waiting for only a handful of minutes before their retrieval team filters out from between the trees, leading them to where a shuttle is parked sheltered from sight and snow behind a ridge.

From there it will be only a few hours by air back to their temporary camp, and after that they’ll soon be headed back to headquarters.

Gabe takes the jumpseat next to Jesse once he’s finished conferring with the pilot. The shuttle isn’t warm on the inside, exactly, but someone had given the kid a thermos full of something hot and Jesse is holding it close to his chest when he’s not drinking from it, the steam putting some pink on his cheeks. He looks like death warmed over.

Gabe kicks at his foot. “Alright?”

Jesse’s mouth goes lopsided with a crooked grin. “Yessir. Counted my toes, still got all eight. You?”

“Yeah,” Gabe says. Then, “And the other thing?”

Jesse gives him a sideways look, eyes heavy-lidded, unreadable. “Sure, soon as you can convince me I’m not actually dead and gone to heaven, boss.”

Gabe shakes his head and settles back into his seat for the ride, his shoulder bumping up against Jesse’s. “I told you already, McCree, there’s no way trouble like you is making it up there.”


End file.
